L’esprit de l’escalier.
It’s French & if the snippet of the (photo of the) newspaper that I read is accurate, it is translated as ‘staircase wit.’ Staircase wit is what it’s apparently called when you think of a clever comeback after it’s too late to deliver it.
Story of my life.
It’s at the top of my list of reasons why I prefer writing over actually talking to people. I can think about what I want to say before all kinds of unwelcome thoughts just spew out of my mouth like word-vomit. Organization, making sure what I’m saying is actually what I mean; that’s what I need. Versus when I’m having a conversation & I say something stupid & realize that is not at all what I meant or else that it’s what I meant, but not the way I meant to say it.
Speaking of saying things, I really need someone to tell me how to pronounce that French word because when I say it, it sounds like I’m hacking up a gallon of phlegm with a thick southern drawl & vaguely Spanish consonants.
However, I can say “vis ma vie” quite clearly.